


crawling back to you

by whereshiphappens (xiiis16)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Ashton, Smut, Well there is, and bad words and stuff so yes, and there is also some sad feels, is a thing, oh there's also a lot of swearing, there is, there is a lot of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1523234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiiis16/pseuds/whereshiphappens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been going on for months, this dance between them that they try to hide from everybody else. It’s like it’s this dirty little thing that needs to be kept in the night. Their <em>dirty little secret</em> they should feel ashamed of – that’s how Ashton acts, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crawling back to you

**Author's Note:**

> Well, the idea for this came up a few days ago, when watching [this interview](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0LBNdx8PMcs), that whole part from around minute 0.55 to 1.44. Then it lead to [this little thing](http://whereshiphappens.tumblr.com/post/83199064598/vanessa-vanessa-you-need-to-go-watch-the-interview) on my blog, and... yes, what can I say, jealous Ashton inspires me :)  
> (i don't think it needs to be said that this is all fiction and blablabla it didn't happen in real life - as far as i know - and all that jazz and stuff ;) )
> 
> I hope you like it! There's probably tons of mistakes there, for which I'm very sorry. And if you can, please gimme feedback, please please, yes? either here or on my tumblr. It means a lot +.+ 
> 
> I love you.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

He can feel his gaze almost burning at the back of his head. If looks could kill, he’s sure he’d be in a very unfortunate state right now – not dead, _oh, no_ , Ashton still needs him after all.

As Luke strides through the corridors of the venue, ears still buzzing after another amazing concert and the blood pumping through his veins keeping his body impossibly hot, he can almost physically feel Ashton’s intent gaze behind him, like he was able to during the whole show. He knows what this is about – it’s that interview, Ashton’s still not over it.

He has problems sharing. Not everything though, he’s usually a very nice, very giving and generous guy, just not when it comes to Luke. It pisses Luke off in a way, because they’ve been playing this game for too long now.

It’s been going on for months, this dance between them that they try to hide from everybody else. It’s like it’s this dirty little thing that needs to be kept in the night. Their dirty little secret they should feel ashamed of – that’s how Ashton acts, anyway. It pisses Luke off how he dismisses him after he’s had his way; it pisses Luke off how he’ll take what he wants and vanish before morning comes and it pisses him off how Ashton thinks that he can play him. He can’t. Luke is not a clueless pretty little British girl waiting for him when he’s all the way across the world.

The ride back to the hotel is long and mostly quiet. Calum and Michael are saying something about waking up earlier to come down for breakfast before heading off for the next city and Ashton is looking intensely at Luke, not even taking his eyes off his face when Calum asks if he wants to come as well. He doesn’t answer and Calum almost winces, the tension in the van suffocating the other two boys. Luke is determined to ignore Ashton. He’s trying to prove a point.

Michael and Calum almost run to the reception, demanding to be roomed together and Luke was already expecting it. It’s an unspoken thing; even if one of them wanted to room with Luke, Ashton’s gaze alone would dissuade them from it, so they already know better. They are mad at each other- they don’t know why -, they need time and space to figure it out.

It’s not always that Ashton claims Luke so bluntly like this, but today Ashton is pissed and they don’t dare step in his toes.

Luke, however, is determined to push his every single button, he wants to antagonize him, feels this frustration inside his chest because Ashton is a fucking asshole and Luke _is not_ his British girl that he’s got wrapped around his little finger. He’s bitter about it – he won’t say it out loud, he’s not allowed to, it’s one of the conditions of… _this_. But he is. Who does Ashton think he is, demanding Luke wholly like this without giving half of it back? It’s what gets under his skin, how he fucking demands so much of Luke but won’t give back, giving it to _her_ instead. He’s fucking tired of that. It’s like he’s his punching bag where he can unburden before going back to her and give her all the good things.

He’s ashamed of what they do. He feels conflicted about liking it so much, about how Luke makes him feel and the younger boy knows it.

That’s what his little British girl is for – to _cleanse_ him of all the filth Luke brings his way. He takes what he wants from Luke and then he dismisses it all, acting like it never happened. Then, he sees Luke diverting his attention to someone else and he’s back with fire in his eyes, a hand around his neck pushing him against a wall and the word _mine_ escaping through gritted teeth.

It’s fucking hypocrite and Luke is tired of it.

Ashton is right behind him when he opens the door to their room and he leaves it open, moving to the farthest bed, not even bothering to check if he’s coming in after him or not.

He can feel his presence, though; he hears the door close and the footsteps as Ashton moves to his own bed. Luke’s face is locked in a hard and cold expression as he goes around and it makes Ashton’s breathing quicken, it makes his blood boil with anger and frustration. Luke’s just waiting for it. He knows him. He knows where this is going, it’s a matter of time.

As Luke looks up at him for the first time since they left that stage, passing by him on his way to the bathroom, Ashton is looking back intensely. He’s tempted to talk, to give the older boy an annoyed _what,_ to make it all explode at once, get it over with. But Luke just keeps going, until he hears a scoff.

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” he says finally, and Luke turns around. Is he serious?

“Oh, you’ve got some fucking nerve,” he says, spitting the words out. He feels almost outraged at his words. Ashton’s eyebrows rise in his forehead and he laughs humorlessly, “I could say the same.”

Luke feels the angry heat of frustration get to his head and he curls his fists, pressing his nails hard against his skin, closing his eyes and breathing out before looking at Ashton again and turning around, saying, “I’m not gonna waste my fucking time with you.” It’s rather impressive how Ashton doesn’t miss a beat when he says, “maybe I should call Calum, you seem rather keen on wasting your time with him.”

Luke stops. It’s infuriating how he thinks he’s allowed to be _jealous_. He could almost laugh at this if it wasn’t so fucking maddening. How does he even _dare_ to be jealous considering all the things he puts Luke through? How can he demand exclusivity when the second the jumps off of Luke’s bed he’s running to that girl’s arms, trying to fix it, trying to pretend he didn’t just fuck a boy and _liked it_.

Luke _was not_ his British girl. He wouldn’t allow Ashton to play him like that.

Rising his chin up at him he mumbled simply, “maybe you should. Maybe _he’ll_ stay after we fuck.” He knows that’s pushing, he knows that’ll make him furious and he doesn’t care. Let him be angry and frustrated and jealous – let him get a taste of what he puts Luke through every time he runs back to Gemma.

It’s only a second before Luke finds himself hitting back first against the wall, a strong hand shaking with anger around his neck keeping him in place and Ashton’s face inches from his, jaw tense and the look on his eyes is absolutely murderous at this point. “You want Calum? Huh?” he says lowly through gritted teeth. Luke’s resolve doesn’t even shake as his breathing gets shallow and he looks straight into Ashton’s furious hazel eyes. “Is that what you want, you think he’ll be a better fuck than me?” he spits out, the jealousy so out of control, he’s almost shaking.

Luke’s looking back at him with the same intensity, feeling his strong body push up against his, feeling every line of his hard muscles touching him. He’s tempted to say yes, he wants to irritate him, push his every button and take him to his limit, even if it’s not true and he has no interest in Calum. He opens his mouth, pushes against the hand on his neck to get closer to Ashton’s face, and whispers “I want someone who gives a fuck.”

Ashton is struck silent for a moment, staring at the younger boy. Then he grunts as he pushes his hand back curled in a tight fist and Luke’s breathing quickens and he closes his eyes waiting for the hit. He feels the air on his ear, he hears the loud thud as Ashton’s fist connects with the dry wall and he stares at him frowning for just a moment before Ashton’s demanding lips come crashing into his, hands pulling on his hair hard. It’s an angry kiss, it’s rough and it’s messy and Luke kisses back before he knows what he’s doing. He’s barely aware of his hands pulling Ashton closer, nails digging hard into his skin.

Ashton bites his lip and Luke groans before he can stop himself, pulling him closer for just a second before he’s pushing him off - it feels like ripping a part of himself. His whole body is itching to grab him again, to fucking feel him against his skin; it’s such a precious thing, having Ashton. It’s so rare and fast and intense, his every instinct, his _every single nerve_ itches, wants to hold him again and there’s a lump on his throat and something heavy setting on his chest as he tells himself he can’t; he just can’t, he won’t allow Ashton to play him again, _he won’t_.

Without a word he grabs his bag and goes to the bathroom to set his things down and get ready for bed. He ignores Ashton’s confused and frustrated glare, ignores his pretty swollen red lips and the pink tint in his cheeks and moves away from him, wishing he could escape everything else as well.

Ashton doesn’t know, Ashton doesn’t understand how it’s fucking destroying Luke. He doesn’t get that simply saying “ _no feelings allowed_ ” isn’t gonna change anything, isn’t gonna make Luke’s heart stop breaking when Ashton is running away from him, denying and dismissing what they did. Ashton has no idea how toxic the jealousy he feels of Gemma is, how it gnaws at his heart and consumes his soul. Ashton just has no idea how much he needs to try to get out of this now, while he and her and not official yet, while it’s still casual dating and not a relationship.

Ashton doesn’t know why Luke wouldn’t be able to deal with it.

He’s barely stepping inside the bathroom when he feels Ashton’s hand on his shoulder turning him around, pushing him against the sink, making him hiss when his hip hits the hard surface, “Don’t fucking walk away from me,” he grunts, a hand full of Luke’s hair. He pulls him against his mouth kissing him hard, working over his lips making them part to let his tongue in.

The way Ashton is all over him clouds Luke’s judgment and he’s once again wrapping his arms around him, pulling him closer by his waist, making his back arch, his strong thigh in between Luke’s legs so suddenly making him whimper against his mouth. It makes Ashton press closer, if that’s possible, rock against the hardening line that is Luke’s cock. He knows what he’s doing, and Luke can feel his resolve dissolving slowly with this mad explosion of _want_ running on his veins – on _their_ veins.

Ashton’s hand is already diving down to slip beneath Luke’s shirt while the other grips his jaw on the opposite side he’s kissing. Luke feels his calloused fingers running up his abdomen, curling slightly on his skin to let his nails scratch as he goes. The blond boy needs to reach back to grip the sink, to keep himself up right, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as Ashton keeps rocking and pressing against his dick whilst kissing down to his collarbones. He’s slowly losing his mind, like only Ashton can make him. Both Ashton’s hands are on Luke’s torso, pushing his flannel shirt to the side, the black shirt underneath up, revealing his toned chest and Luke’s heart is beating so fast. He has to stop this while he still can, Luke has to stop him.

He pushes Ashton off him, again, and the older boy’s confused look makes him curse internally. He looks so good, like always, Luke has no idea where he finds the strength to walk past him and get out of bathroom but there he is, in the bedroom again, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Luke can’t stay here.

Grabbing his hoodie and his cellphone, he turns to the door ready to leave when Ashton steps out of the bathroom, looking at him resentfully, “You’re going to leave?” he says in a cold tone. He’s still angry, if anything even more now, but Luke doesn’t say a word. He’s gripping the door handle, “Are you gonna find someone else to fuck, since I’m not good for it anymore?” Ashton says. His voice shakes a little and it makes Luke hesitate. He can’t stay here, he can’t do this to himself, he needs to get out, he needs to walk away from Ashton.

But he needs him too. _God_ , he needs him to understand why he needs to do this. He just can’t tell him because it’ll ruin them completely. Feelings ruin everything.

Luke turns the door handle, pulling the door open and immediately, Ashton’s hand is pushing it closed again, slipping in the space between it and Luke, “No,” he says. It’s not a harsh tone anymore, it’s almost a pleading one and his voice shakes as his hands come up around Luke’s neck as he’s pulling for a kiss. “Don’t go,” he says against Luke’s lips, and for only a second all his guard is down and he’s so exposed and vulnerable. They’re gravitating towards each other again, Ashton falls against the door with a thud and it’s okay because Luke’s hands are on his back and he shivers, arching towards him.

It’s like a jolt of something going through Luke’s heart, hearing how his voice is so soft and how he’s suddenly so desperate to hold on to Luke – almost as much as Luke is to hold on to him. That’s why, deep now, in a dark, twisted corner of his heart he likes the jealousy, he likes the possessiveness, he likes how Ashton fumes when someone so much as tries to flirt with him. He likes it, because in a way, it means Ashton still wants him.

“I can’t stay with you,” Luke says, but his actions don’t match his words as he cups Ashton’s jaw, kissing him, his tongue in his mouth tasting him and a little whine escaping Ashton’s lips.

It’s Ashton’s turn to break the kiss, pulling back to look at him, the hard expression back, all vulnerability gone. “Why?” he asks, and this time his voice doesn’t shake, “You wanna be somewhere else?” he pushes Luke’s chest, “you’re fucking tired of me?” he says pushing him again, his voice shaking.

Luke groans, catching Ashton’s wrists in his hands but not for long, because Ashton is pulling them out of Luke’s grasp, gripping the front of his blue flannel shirt instead. He’s so inconstant, it pisses Luke off and it’s a stupid spout of anger that makes him say “Yes,” in a cruel tone before he can stop himself.

Ashton’s grip tightens on his shirt and his breathing gets all worked up as his lip trembles, the rage coming to the surface again. The back of Luke’s knees is hitting the edge of the bed and he almost falls when Ashton presses his body closer to him. He can almost see the red in his eyes when he looks straight into them, the warmth of his body against him so familiar he finds himself pressing closer and it’s the most contradictory thing he could do right now but he can’t help himself – _Ashton’s got him wrapped around his little finger_.

Suddenly, Ashton’s hand leaves the fabric of his flannel shirt and, coming down, he grips Luke harshly thought the fabric of his skinny jeans, feeling him twitch in his hand, a surprised half moaned half cried _fuck!_ escaping his lips before he can stop himself. Ashton feels how he’s already half hard, how he leans into Ashton’s touch and he older boy brings his face against Luke’s, their lips almost touching when he whispers, “liar.”

Luke grunts, bats Ashton’s hands off of him in a swift move grabbing his face in his and kisses him hard. The older boy doesn’t waste a second, hands coming down to undo the button of Luke’s pants, in quick, desperate movements as Luke kisses down his neck. “Who made you that hard, huh?” he says, “tell me, Luke, who fucking put you like that?” Ashton demands, pulling at Luke’s hair. Luke’s whole resolve vanishes then. He can’t escape him, he doesn’t want to, he wants Ashton, so much, he fucking _needs_ him.

Luke’s fumbling with the button of Ashton’s pants when he swears, “fuck,” before adding, “you, you did,” in a strangled voice. He’s pushing Ashton’s skinny jeans down his legs when the older boy pulls him to an angry, possessive kiss before he says, “that’s right, _me,_ ” he says, “not fucking _Calum_. Me.”

He knew all along what this was about. Luke knew the second he answered the wrong thing in that goddamned interview that it would come to this. Ashton is jealous, so jealous every single fiber on his body is vibrating with it, wanting to show Luke just who he belongs to. When it comes to Luke, Ashton does not share, he gets greedy, he gets jealous, and he gets irrationally possessive.

Ashton pushes him with a hand on his chest and Luke lets himself fall on the bed as the older boy writhes out of his pants. He doesn’t take his eyes off Ashton as he crawls back on the bed rearranging himself on the mattress before pulling his own skinny jeans down, until they’re resting just hallway down his thighs. He doesn’t bother taking them off, doesn’t bother taking his shirts off as well or his shoes for that matter. Ashton braces himself on Luke’s chest as he swings a leg over him to straddle his lap and automatically starts grinding on him the second their still clad erections touch and he leans down, kisses Luke again as he feels his hands trailing down his back towards his ass.

“ _Ashton_ ,” Luke calls when he pulls away, grabbing one of Luke’s hands. “You think he could ever make you feel this good?” he breathes as he keeps rocking down against him, gyrating his hips driving Luke mad with want. He doesn’t want to answer, he doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction and Ashton can see it in his eyes. “ _Answer me_ , Luke,” he demands through gritted gripping his jaw for just a moment, thrusting especially hard down until Luke is breathing out a shaky _no_. Then, pleased with Luke’s answer, with how wrecked he already looks, Ashton smiles – it’s smug, it’s almost arrogant and he slowly brings Luke’s hand up, never breaking eye contact as he starts sucking on his index and middle finger. It makes Luke moan, despite his frustration at that stupid smugness, thrust up against Ashton desperately as he feels Ashton’s tongue swirling around his fingers.

It doesn’t take long, because Ashton is almost as frantic as Luke is and he takes his now wet fingers off his mouth, guiding Luke’s hand to his back again, leaning down and having to turn his head from Luke’s kiss to say, “you know what to do.” Then Luke kisses him biting Ashton’s lip as his hands fumble with Ashton’s boxers and he’s not gentle at all when he finds Ashton’s entrance. It’s a sort of payback, pushing in rougher than Ashton is expecting, having him rocking up, sliding against Luke’s body, closing his eyes. He swears a high pitched _fuck_ that Luke catches with his mouth but it doesn’t take long for him to start rocking back on Luke’s fingers.

It’s mesmerizing to watch his face as he closes his eyes, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and Luke is breathlessly trying to give him what he wants. He’s sighing, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when Luke finally brushes his prostate. “Yes, Luke, yes,” he whimpers, throwing his head back, “you found it, babe.” A sense of pride in himself invades Luke, as well as this fiery sensation low on his belly, “ _good boy_ ,” Ashton is mumbling over and over again, letting his body fall completely on top of Luke’s.

Luke feels him impossibly hard between the both of them, feels him leaking pre come onto his own belly and it still amazes him how he can make Ashton feel like this. It still amazes him that Ashton’s this hard for him; that Luke _turns him on._ It feels surrealist how much trust Ashton has in him to let him inside his body like this.

Ashton reaches between them, pushes Luke’s underwear down just enough to get his hand around him and starts pumping him, thumb on the head of his cock spreading the pre come. It takes Luke by surprise and he lets out a moan, stopping the movement of his fingers. “Does that feel good?” Ashton says still grinding against him as he moves his hand over Luke’s dick. Luke’s biting his lip, nodding, his eyebrows furrowed and high in his forehead as he digs his nails into the skin of Ashton’s ass cheek. He knows Ashton wants to make him speak and he’s antagonizing him on purpose, leaving Ashton as frustrated as he is.

The older boy hisses at the sharpness of his nails but doesn’t make him stop. He’s awestruck looking at Luke’s face and he looks so good playing with his lip ring, eyes blown, the black consuming the baby blue and the soft yellow light of the bedside lamp giving him his golden aura – it’s almost divine, it’s _fucking beautiful._ The thought lingers for a moment in Ashton’s mind before he catches himself, chasing it away.

“I want to hear you speak, Lucas,” he hisses, twisting his fist on his cock, making him whimper out loud. There’s a wicked smile on Luke’s face and he knows his next words are going to piss Ashton off, he knows he’s gonna step right on his toes. He removes his fingers from inside him, lets his hands fall on his thighs by his side as he mumbles, “Calum would make it feel better.”

Luke sees the flash of red in Ashton’s eyes, he sees how everything shifts there. He growls – he actually growls and combined with the murderous look on his face it’s almost animalistic. His hand fall around Luke’s neck and he pushes him back against the mattress. “You think that’s funny?” he grunts, his jaw set as he moves to take his boxers off without taking his hand off Luke’s neck. It’s not cutting the air off, but it’s possessive, it’s threatening nonetheless. “If he ever touches you like that,” he breathes against Luke’s lips, while climbing back on Luke’s lap, “if he ever fucking lays a finger on your body, I’ll break his motherfucking hands, you hear me?” He says, as he holds himself up on his knees reaching back to grip Luke’s dick again, guiding him beneath him to tease his entrance. Luke hisses at the unexpected contact and his hands fly to his hips to hold him up.

“You are mine,” Ashton says, moving the hand on his neck to his jaw, gripping it tight as he speaks, before kissing him hard – a greedy strong kiss on his lips before he’s starting to lower himself down on Luke, letting the younger boy enter him. The blond boy’s hands on his hips try to stop him as he mumbles breathless “Ashton, _wait_ , I’m not wearing a cond-“ but the older boy interrupts him, silencing him with a hand on top of his mouth as he whispers, “I don’t care. I’m gonna make you feel me.”

Luke swears then, closing his eyes for just a second before Ashton is grabbing his jaw again, “look at me, Luke,” he says. And Luke obeys, their eyes locked in an intense gaze as Ashton lowers himself on Luke, thighs shaking with the effort he’s making to go slow, Luke’s hands on his hips helping him. The burning sensation of going drier than usual makes tears prickle at Ashton’s eyes, his face contorted in one of pain, eyebrows knitted together high on his forehead where sweat starts to break and little golden curls fall over his eyes. Luke is shaking, the pressure of Ashton around him almost too much to handle. “You’re mine, Luke, you’re fucking _mine_ ” Ashton almost sobs in a higher pitch as Luke finally bottoms up on him. He almost falls forward, bracing himself with a hand on Luke’s chest, his breathing hard and shallow and he never breaks eye contact with Luke as he whispers “no one else’s, Lucas. _Mine_.”

Luke can’t help but kiss him, tiny little whimpers escaping his mouth; all he wants to do is grab Ashton by the waist and make him move, the feeling of his tight walls around him alone making him loose his mind. “ _Ash_ ,” he breathes against Ashton’s mouth, “can you move, please, _please move_ ,” he begs, hands on Ashton’s thighs, caressing Ashton’s skin as he moves his own legs, bending his knees so his feet are planted on the mattress. It changes the angle just slightly, brings Ashton closer to him and makes him moan right in his ear sending jolts of pure electricity all over his body. But Ashton’s not ready yet; he’s breathless when he speaks “just- just a little more, yeah?” he cries out, holding himself up with both hands planted on the mattress by each side of Luke’s head, “I just need a few sec-seconds, babe,” he stutters. Luke feels like crying – he wants, no, he _needs_ Ashton to move, and he feels him moving tentatively, pulling his hips up just a little to try it out but stopping again, sobbing out a strangled, “ _fuck, you feel so big_ ” under his breath that Luke isn’t even supposed to hear.

But he does, and it makes him groan, makes him loose his head as he takes Ashton by his hips and lifts him slightly to bring him down on his cock again in a harsh desperate move that takes Ashton by surprise, makes him cry out helplessly as Luke starts thrusting up into him and it hurts, the movement is too much because he wasn’t ready yet. “Fuck! Luke!” he almost yells, standing up straighter and grabbing Luke’s hands, taking them from his body in a swift move. Luke’s apologizing, bringing his hands up and away from Ashton, gripping the pillow just above his head instead.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles reaching out for Ashton’s neck, trying to pull him into a kiss. But Ashton slaps his hand away, “don’t move,” he says simply as he starts rotating his hips on Luke’s lap, biting his lip and closing his eyes. It feels amazing, it feels fucking amazing and Luke’s shaking with how much he wants to be able to move inside Ashton.

When Ashton lifts himself on his thighs slowly to sink back against Luke, the younger boy lets out the neediest whimper, his hands shaking as he grips the pillow. Ashton starts moving faster after a few tries and Luke can barely see straight anymore. The curly haired boy feels divine like this, his golden locks falling on his closed eyes as his face is slightly bent back, exposing the line of his neck and the small droplets of sweat sliding down his body. His hand is low on Luke’s abdomen, bracing himself as he bites his lip, eyebrows knitted together high on his forehead screaming how much he’s loving this – how good riding Luke feels.

Luke is moaning under him and Ashton opens his eyes to look at him, his rhythm steady as he moves not only up and down, but rotating his hips as well – it’s almost overwhelming. He smiles smugly at the look of pure bliss on Luke’s face, “does it feel good?” he asks in a husky tone.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Luke breathes out automatically, “so good, Ash,” he mumbles. He’s almost forgotten of everything that happened before between them, he almost doesn’t remember why he had to get away, why he couldn’t do this. How could he ever _not_ do this?

Suddenly, absolutely out of nowhere Ashton stands up, making Luke slip out of him, swings his leg to get out of his lap and bends down closer to a confused Luke, who’s looking at him wide eyed, as shocked as if he was just hit with a bucket of freezing water. He grips Luke’s jaw when he speaks, “Run to Calum now, then, see if he can make it feel better,” and he kisses him hard before grabbing his boxers to start walking away with a twisted smile on his face, rearranging his shirt.

He doesn’t go far, though, because Luke is standing up, grabs Ashton’s arm and pulls him making him hit back against his chest, gasping at the suddenness of the movement. He laughs when he feels Luke’s arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer as he grunts in his ear “you fucking bastard,” in an angry tone.

“Wasn’t that what you wanted, Luke? Weren’t you _in love_ with Calum? Isn’t he the one you always pick for everything?” Ashton says back at him, a hand falling on top of the one Luke has over his abdomen, guiding it down to touch his hard on, groaning at how good it feels, throwing his head back on Luke’s shoulder.

Luke spins him around, makes him walk backwards until his back is hitting the wall. Reaching down, he grabs the back of Ashton’s naked thighs lifting them up to wrap around his waist, using the wall to balance both of them. He buries his face on the crook of Ashton’s neck groaning as Ashton puts his hands on his shoulders to hold himself up, fingers twisting in the fabric of his flannel shirt. “You piss me off so fucking much,” Luke says as he positions himself again, ready to enter him. And Ashton laughs again, the sound vibrating through his chest – then his breath catches on his throat and it turns into a moan as Luke slides into him finally, a hand on his hip to steady him as he other holds him up by his thigh.

Ashton just needs a second, and then he’s holding himself up with his legs firmly wrapped around Luke an arm around his shoulders. “You good?” Luke asks him, searching his face for any signs of discomfort – he finds none; Ashton’s eyes are closed, his pink mouth parted as he sighs a _yeah,_ that gets cut halfway by Luke’s sudden thrust into him. Luke starts building up a rhythm and soon enough he’s relentlessly thrusting up into him, giving it to him hard and fast and Ashton is moaning “ _yes, Lucas, good boy, such a good boy_ ” in a higher pitch, voice breaking with the power of his thrusts.

His head falls back against the wall and his curls fall on his eyes. It’s an expression of pure bliss and it’s fucking mesmerizing. It’s absolutely captivating and Luke can’t stop staring at him – he’s such a beautiful creature, looks so gorgeous like this, all flushed and fucked out, sighing Luke’s name as he throws his head back.

How can Luke give it up? It doesn’t seem possible, it doesn’t seem fair that he has to deny everything he’s feeling, that he has to ignore the swirling butterflies in his tummy he gets just by _looking_ at Ashton. It doesn’t seem fair that he has to bite his tongue and keep the words in – he may not be saying them out loud, but, _goddamn it_ he still feels everything they mean nonetheless. He feels the warm sensation going through his whole body when he touches Ashton, and how _his touch_ is capable of setting his skin on fire.

It’s not fair that he has to keep it all inside. He almost can’t, just like he can’t walk away now, he’s sure of it. There’s no way out of this anymore, he’s too far gone, he realizes as he feels his heart on fucking fire when he looks at Ashton’s face. Because, really, how can he stop crawling back to Ashton, when he fucking feels like home – all the way across the goddamned world, he feels like home to Luke. Being buried in his body, locked together for the too short amount of time Ashton lets his guard down and allows him, is heaven; is everything.

Luke looks up at him, a hand coming up to brush his curls from his face and Ashton opens his eyes to look at him and there’s something there. It’s only a moment, it’s only a second before Ashton catches himself, but Luke sees it. He sees the insecurity and the fear, the sees the desperation and he sees the affection swimming behind those beautiful eyes, behind all the jealousy and anger and frustration. It’s there, no matter how Ashton denies it, it fucking _is_ there and it leaves Luke awestruck. But then Ashton’s closing his eyes again and Luke groans, not losing his pace for a moment. He wants it back, he wants to see more of it and he moans his name brokenly, “ _Ashton_ ,” letting his head fall against his chest.

“Wh-why are you calling _my_ name?” he says, the harsh tone back on his voice. It’s a façade, it’s a ridiculous attempt at fixing it, hiding the vulnerably Luke just saw, try to make it look like the possessiveness he feels is purely physical – like what he’s claiming and what he’s jealous of is Luke’s body and not his affections. Luke knows better. “C-call for him. Call his fucking name, if you want him that much, I dare you. I fucking dare you, Lucas, call his fucking name when you’re buried deep within _my_ body,” he tells him, his voice all wrecked and broken, shaking with pure insecurity.

Those walls, they come crashing down at that moment. Ashton can try all he wants to pretend this is all physical and purely mechanical; a whim of the body. But it’s not, Luke knows it’s not. He can go and run back to Gemma, try to pretend he doesn’t have any feelings for Luke, for _a boy_ , it won’t change anything. That’s what he does every time, he gets so conflicted about how he feels – if it were just physical like he tries to convey, it’d be easier to deal with, it’d go away in some weeks, maybe. But it’s not, it runs deeper than that, and Ashton doesn’t know how to deal with it, he’s not like Luke who just _feels_ and that’s it. No. Ashton needs logic and he can’t find it.  

“Call his name,” he’s mumbling, his body shaking as Luke fucks into him mercilessly and he digs his nails hard on his back through his shirt with such strength he manages to scratch him.

Luke grunts and takes his hand from his back – not because he doesn’t like it or because it hurts, but because of how out of control Ashton sounded. He holds his forearm in the air saying, “fucking _stop it_ , Ashton,” and looking into his eyes, seeing how they’re suddenly all watered and Ashton’s breathing is ragged more than is expected. Luke lets his hand run up his arm, slip to Ashton’s hand, intertwining their fingers together as he pins it to the wall by Ashton’s head, repeating “ _stop it_ , fucking stop it,” in between kisses, Ashton’s needy whines filling his ears.

“I don’t want anybody else, you fucking asshole,” Luke breathes, “I just want you, I fucking want you, _just you_ ,” he says, moaning when he feels Ashton’s walls clench around him, as he holds Luke’s neck to kiss him harder, deeper.

It doesn’t take both of them long before the familiar heat starts pooling low in their abdomens and Ashton is begging Luke to touch him, to “help me get there, babe, I’m so close, so, so close, I need your hands on me,” he whimpers, almost sobbing as Luke wraps his hand around his cock, starting to pump him in a fast rhythm as he keeps thrusting into him, “So close, Luke,” Ashton sighs, “You’re doing so good, you’re _so good_ , Lukey, c’mon just a little more.”

Luke can feel it, can almost grasp it, it’s so close his whole body is shaking and he’s holding on to Ashton like he would for dear life, his movements getting sloppy with the eagerness to get there, but still as hard, as deep as before. Then, Ashton is moaning a little, almost inaudible, and broken, “ _I need you, Luke_ ,” and it sends him off, makes him tilt over the edge and he almost screams like he’s free falling, feeling his entire body convulse as he rides it out, still thrusting into Ashton’s smaller body.

Ashton follows him right away, the sensation of Luke filling him up too overwhelming to hold on any longer. It’s like his brain is exploding in his head and every single nerve on his body becomes super sensitive. He’s calling Luke’s name repeatedly, like a mantra as he trashes in his arms, unable to contain himself, holding him closer by his neck, feeling Luke’s forehead against his lips as he comes down from his high.

They’re both breathless, panting with their eyes closed and Luke doesn’t think he’s able to move without having his whole body turning to dust. He feels a constant tingle in his members as he turns with Ashton on his arms, taking both of them to the bed where he lets the older boy fall, hitting the mattress with a soft thud. They’re both still trying to catch their breaths when Ashton takes his shirt off, using it to clean himself and offering it to Luke who’s bent down, catching Ashton’s still clean boxers and passing them to him.

When he’s taken off his stained shirts and is fairly clean himself, he pulls his boxers and his jeans up, not bothering to redo the button, letting himself fall in Ashton’s bed instead, crawling up to settle in Ashton’s open arms. The second his head hits Ashton’s chest, he sighs, closing his eyes and feeling his head spinning, his body lighter, like he could just take off any second.

Ashton wraps his arms around Luke’s shoulders again, pulling him closer to him – if that’s even possible. Ashton’s heart is beating fast, just like the rise and fall of his chest is. And maybe it’s the fact that he’s still dizzy, maybe he hasn’t completely come down from his high or maybe it’s just a wild sprout of courage in his heart incited by the firmness with each Ashton is holding on to him, the warmth of his body and the touch of his calloused fingers running through his hair. Luke doesn’t really know; whatever it is, it’s clouding his judgment and before he can even think about it, before he has time to stop himself, the words, “ _I love you_ ” are being said out loud, echoing in the deafening silence that is reigning in their hotel room.

It takes him a moment to process what was just said, and then Ashton’s entire body is tensing up and Luke lifts his head, looking up at him as Ashton’s breathing gets quicker and quicker and he’s pulling himself into a sitting position, looking at Luke, his eyebrows knitted together up in his forehead in a conflicted expression as he simply mumbles, “ _no_ ,” while shaking his head. His eyes are watering and Luke is calling his name softly, “Ashton it’s okay,” he says, grabbing his hands in his. It’s okay, he’s scared too – it’s scary talking about it, but… they’ll work it out. Except Ashton just nods, “take it back,” he whispers, “take that back, Luke, take it back.” Luke is shaking his head stubbornly.

“No,” he says, “I can take it back, but it’ll still be what I feel so what’s the point?”

Ashton is looking at him like he’s about to break down at any moment; this is it, it’s out, Luke can’t hold it inside anymore, he can’t take it back, he needs Ashton to know, he needs Ashton to understand. “Please take it back, Lucas,” Ashton mumbles.

“I won’t! I fucking won’t, it won’t change anything, don’t you understand? Just because we don’t say it doesn’t mean we don’t feel it,” Luke argues.

“I don’t feel anything,” Ashton says, but it’s so wrecked, Luke doesn’t believe him for a second.

“You’re fucking lying!” he almost shouts. He makes a move to grab Ashton’s face, getting closer to him, “Ashton, it’s okay, everything we feel, it’s okay. You don’t have to hide it from me, you don’t have to run away from me and go to that British girl anym-“

“I like Gemma,” he fights back, pushing Luke away halfheartedly. Luke grunts, scrunching his face up, becoming desperate.

“That’s bullshit, man!” he shouts, “That’s fucking bullshit and you know it. You don’t like her, Ashton, you know you don’t, you like me, it’s me you want,” Ashton brings his hands up, covering his face, moving up to start pulling on his hair and he’s as desperate as Luke, except it’s for whole different reasons.

“ _Shut up_ ,” he pleads, closing his eyes tight, making a small tear slide down. He wipes it quickly as Luke gets closer again, takes his hands from his face, “Ashton, it’s okay,” he kisses his lips multiple times quickly, as he speaks in a soft voice “we’re okay.” Ashton shakes his head, he pushes Luke’s hands away from him, stands up and grabs his jeans lost on the floor.

“I don’t fucking like you,” he says furiously, tears falling down with this brusque movements as he puts his pants on again, “You don’t mean anything to me,” he continues, but he’s not even looking at Luke. It’s like he’s speaking to himself, trying to convince _himself_ of what he’s saying. “You’re a fucking warm mouth to be,” he whispers as he puts his shoes on, and Luke is staring at him, a hurt expression on his face. It fucking hurts – not because he believes Ashton’s words, he doesn’t, not for a second; but because that is what Ashton _wants_ to believe in.

“Ashton, _please_ ,” Luke pleads in a small voice. _Please stop that, please don’t do this to us._

His eyes, red and watered, frustrated, angry, conflicted, and hurt look straight into Luke’s this time as he says “I don’t like you,” through gritted teeth, like he’s forcing the words out. He grabs a shirt from his open bag and turns back to him, his angry expression flickering to a fucking _completely devastated_ one for just a slip of a second as he says “even if I wanted to, I _couldn’t_.”

It makes Luke frown, but he doesn’t have a single second to make sense of his words before Ashton is wiping the stubborn tears from his eyes, grabbing his phone and turning to walk out of the room.

“Ashton!” Luke calls after him standing up himself. And that’s when Ashton turns one last time as he opens the door, and this time, he’s not making a single effort to hide the absolute devastation he’s feeling. It’s his turn to mumble a broken, “Luke, _please_ ,” as he shakes his head, begging him to let him go.

Then he just leaves, disappears behind the door and leaves Luke alone in the hotel room. Suddenly, he feels reality slap him in the face – this changes everything. He thought he’d be the one leaving through that door, he thought he’d be the one saying _no_ and ending all this. He though – he _kept saying_ he wasn’t Ashton’s little British girl, he refused to be played by him. But this, this is different, isn’t it? This is more complicated… isn’t it?

Luke’s mind is numb, he can’t make sense of anything, he can’t fucking understand exactly what the fuck just went down. He’s standing but he doesn’t feel his legs, or his arms or any other part of his body. The emotional rollercoaster he just experienced is leaving him completely, absolutely numb, gaping at the closed door from where Ashton just left.

He can’t feel anything - except for the nearly unbearable weight set on his chest crushing his heart to a million pieces.

 

 


End file.
